Page 46

T he second game was starting up. Fans in the stands stopped dancing and chatting and settled back into their seats. But the atmosphere was still buzzing, and the tension was high.

Endy threaded her way through the row to the empty seat next to Maria, who pulled down her sunglasses and winked. Endy grabbed her hand and squeezed.

The loud music muted, and the referee announced, “Game two. Time in. Zero, zero, two.”

With a serious look on his face, Paco nodded to Sebastian, who nodded back. And then Paco served the ball crosscourt to Joel.

Agitated from losing the last game, Joel was more than ready for Paco’s serve. He put his weight forward and propelled himself into the court, catching the served ball and returning it just in front of Paco’s feet. Paco tried to hit the ball but instead swatted it into the net.

“Come on,” Joel said under his breath, with a tight nod of his head.

“Side out! Zero, zero, one,” the ref called as Joel and Brayden now got to serve.

Joel caught the ball tossed to him and walked to the back of the court, waiting for Sebastian and Paco to take their places. Then he dropped the ball and served it deep to Sebastian, who returned it and then moved smoothly forward.

Joel caressed the ball over the net, and then Sebastian did the same.

Paco and Brayden bounced on their feet, watching, as the ball stayed low and soft.

Then Joel flicked the ball wide, and Paco returned it crosscourt.

Joel pounced on the ball and hit it so quickly that Sebastian couldn’t react. Joel and Brayden got the first point.

Each point was challenging, with the two pairs equal in their play. The score remained tight throughout the game until finally each team was so near to closing out that the tension couldn’t possibly get any higher.

“Ten, eight, two,” called out the ref.

One point away from winning the game, Brayden took a deep breath. He released the ball and swung hard, but his serve sailed over the net, landing out past the baseline. Brayden groaned, closed his eyes, and his head fell back.

“Side out!” called the ref. “Eight, ten, one.”

Sebastian served to Joel, then moved in along with Paco.

Joel hit the ball midcourt, and Sebastian smoothly scooped the ball just over the middle of the net.

Brayden, with his forehand in the middle, reached for the ball, but Joel rushed forward and darted in front of Brayden and hit a backhand that sent the ball straight into the net.

“Point! Nine, ten, one.”

Sebastian and Paco swapped sides. Brayden, seeing that Sebastian was serving to him, took three steps back, far behind the baseline, and was in a great position to take the serve.

His return landed midcourt, just as Sebastian ran forward and slammed a forehand right at Joel, whose paddle deflected the shot, sending it out of the court.

“Point! Ten, ten, one!”

“Time-out,” yelled Joel. He and Brayden jogged to the back of the court and laid their paddles down.

With the score tied, and just two points away from a game win, Joel pulled Brayden close as he whispered some strategy.

Sebastian could see the intensity in his face as Joel’s hand gestured wildly.

Brayden stood still, gnawing at his lip and listening to Joel.

Sebastian saw Brayden nod reluctantly, then look up in the stands at his parents.

They clapped and pumped their fists, encouraging their son.

The four players jogged to their positions, and the game resumed. Sebastian served crosscourt. Joel connected solidly with the ball, then used his wrist to whip it at an extreme angle, back crosscourt, and … out wide.

Taken off guard by the angle and velocity of the ball, Sebastian abruptly leaped right, desperately lunging for the ball.

His muscular arm stretched and extended all the way, his hand gripping his paddle.

His leg stretched out to cover the momentum, and he landed violently, jamming and twisting his knee.

Sebastian’s leg buckled under him, and he dropped to the ground, his paddle thrown away and both hands gripping his knee. “Aggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” he screamed in pain.

“TIME-OUT!” yelled Paco, and he rushed to Sebastian. “Ref! Medical time-out!”

Concern etched the ref’s face as she spoke into the walkie-talkie. “Medical personnel requested on court.”

Within minutes, a medic rushed onto the court, carrying an equipment bag, and knelt next to Sebastian.

“Fifteen minutes,” called out the ref.

Endy and Barbara Tennyson had both jumped from their seats and cried out in unison when Sebastian dropped to the ground.

Barbara steadied herself against the back of the seat in front of her while Endy pushed her way through the row of spectators. Once free, she leaped down the steps, her hair flying behind her.

Coming to a sudden stop at the end of Barbara’s row, upon seeing her standing, Endy stammered, “Mrs. Tennyson, I can’t begin to thank—”

Barbara held up a manicured hand, her large diamond rings glinting in the sunlight. She glanced to where Sebastian lay writhing on the court, then looked deep into Endy’s eyes. “Go to him. He needs you.”

Endy’s eyes filled with tears, and she whispered, “Thank you …” She took a deep breath. “… for everything.” And then she dashed toward the court.

“Ah, if it’s not the hot EMT,” she said, recognizing the medic from months ago when Paul Rothman had still been alive and had tried setting her up on a date. Endy placed her hand on his shoulder, and he turned, their eyes meeting.

“You!” His lips pulled into a smile, but just as quickly into a frown. “Hey, listen, I’m so sorry about the loss of your friend.”

Endy placed her hand over her heart. “Thank you. I miss him.”

“You must,” replied the EMT. After a pause, he asked, “So, you been on any blind dates with any firefighters or traffic cops lately?”

“No, not lately and none planned,” replied Endy with a grin. “And you? How about your plans for your wedding in Tahoe?”

Sebastian had pushed up on one arm. “Hello? A little help here?” he interrupted with a grumble. “Medic needed for someone injured?” He threw his hands up and then pointed at his knee.

Chastened, the EMT quickly opened his kit and turned toward Sebastian’s outstretched leg. “Sorry, bro,” he apologized.

“I’m sorry too, Sebastian,” Endy said quietly. She bit her lip and reached her hand out as if to stroke Sebastian’s cheek, but quickly dropped it to her side when she saw his eyebrows furrow. Her shoulders drooped, and tears prickled in her eyes.

“For what, Endy?” Sebastian asked, his eyes closed in pain.

“Well, for one, I’m really sorry that you’re injured,” she replied. She couldn’t stand seeing Sebastian in pain, whether it was from his knee getting tweaked or from her turning him away. “And two, I’m sorry that I’m so, so late in offering you an apology.”

Sebastian groaned as the EMT lifted his leg. He opened his eyes and stared deep into Endy’s, the pain causing his forehead to wrinkle. “But you’re so good at being late.”

“I know.” Endy sighed and cast her eyes down. She knelt on the court and pushed his hair from his forehead, tucking a dark lock behind his ear. “Sebastian, I’m so sorry because I should have listened to you when you said that you and Sloane were over.”

Sebastian nodded, his lips pursed.

“And I’m sorry because I should have been more sure of our relationship, knowing you’d be there for me, even if your grandmother shut down pickleball across the entire world and I’d never get another job.”

Sebastian closed his eyes again, a look of pain across his face.

“Sebastian, are you okay? Is it okay that I’m telling you this?” Endy tripped over her words in her worry. She grasped his large hand in hers. “Are we okay?”

Sebastian winced. “Tell the hot EMT to give me some Extra Strength Tylenol.” Holding her hand still, he twined his fingers in hers. “And you and me? We’re more than okay.”

Endy exhaled the breath she had been holding, cupped Sebastian’s face with her free hand, then leaned down and smothered her lips against his, kissing him deeply.

“My boyfriend needs some Extra Strength Tylenol,” she told the EMT, her heart skipping and her sparkling eyes never leaving Sebastian’s.

The EMT reached into his kit with a smile. “I think your friend Paul actually didn’t need to help set you up. Looks like you’re doing fine on your own.”

The crowd burst into applause as Sebastian was helped to his feet by Endy and the EMT.

When Paco rushed up, she let him take Sebastian’s arm while she walked back to the stands.

Climbing the first step, Endy saw Barbara Tennyson watching her.

Endy ducked her head and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

But then Barbara gestured to Endy, patting the empty seat next to her. And as the music rang over Stadium Court, Barbara’s and Endy’s eyes locked and the two women smiled at each other.

Sebastian’s knee was wrapped tightly and the back of his shirt and shorts were spotted with dirt from lying on the court.

He limped toward his seat, trying not to put any pressure on his right leg.

The EMT had iced and wrapped his knee and given him the Extra Strength Tylenol, all enough to allow him to stand.

But any weight or movement on his knee was excruciating. The EMT said if Sebastian continued to play, there was a possibility that he might do permanent damage to his knee.

The referee approached them, a timer clenched in her fist. She looked directly at Sebastian, now settled in a chair but still grimacing slightly. “You have about three minutes left on the medical time-out. Are you able to return to play?”

Paco, his chest puffed out, stepped in front of Sebastian and stared hard at the ref.

“Give us some room, sister.” He shooed her away.

“My associate and I need to confer.” Then he turned to Sebastian, looked him in the eye, and said, “Listen, loser”—his hands clutched at the front of his event T-shirt—“I need to tell you something.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow.

“Win or lose today, these have been the best months of my life, hanging with you.”

Sebastian softened and he chuckled. “Paco, you’re only ten. You have many more years—”

“Shut up, I’m talking.” His big brown eyes filled. “I wanna thank you for believing in me … because no one else ever has.”

Sebastian took a deep breath and pulled Paco into a hug.

“Jeez, get off me!” Paco struggled to get away, and Sebastian responded by laughing and squeezing Paco tighter.

“Okay, then let’s go back out there and finish, win or lose.”

Paco pulled away. “Seriously, Sebastian, if you’re too messed up, we don’t have to go back and play. You don’t need to go out there for me.”

“That’s cool, Paco. But we are going back out.” Sebastian resolutely nodded and pushed himself up to standing. “I’m finally on a court doing something for me .”

“Time-in!” the referee announced. She rolled the ball to Paco. “Ten, ten, two.”

Sebastian positioned himself in front of the baseline with his weight on his good leg. The newly wrapped bandage around his knee looked bright in the sunlight. He looked at Paco and nodded once.

Paco quickly dropped the ball, swiped at it, and sliced the serve. Unprepared, Brayden put his paddle out too late, and the ball landed on the court, twisting out to the right.

“Point!” called the ref. “Eleven, ten, two.”

Sebastian hobbled to the other side of their court. Tension was high, with the crowd on the edge of their seats, knowing that one point could decide the champions.

Taking a deep breath, Paco served to Joel, the ball landing deep.

Joel hit the ball to Paco, who returned the ball and then moved forward.

“Heads up, peewee.” Joel smirked. And he lifted the ball in a lob over Paco’s head.

Sebastian, anticipating Joel’s shot, had hobbled closer to the middle, standing with all his weight on his good leg. With his long, muscular arms, he reached out and swatted at the ball, slamming it right into Joel’s body. A gasp rang through the crowd.

Joel’s paddle, which he had positioned close to his chest, deflected the ball, and it shot out, clearing the net, straight down the line, under Sebastian’s still upraised arm to kiss the line, bouncing up and out.

But Paco, hidden behind Sebastian, darted across the court, a look of determination burning on his face.

Gripping his paddle tightly, he dove toward the ball as it hung midair, and with the smallest of movements, delivered a smack that sent the ball sailing around the net post …

landing it solidly in Joel and Brayden’s court.

“Point. Game. And match,” called out the pickleball ref. “Lopez, Hall. Twelve, ten.”

The crowd jumped to their feet, erupting in screams and applause.